


Distractions

by nesrynfaliq



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Crown of Midnight, F/M, Fluff, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6486937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nesrynfaliq/pseuds/nesrynfaliq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaol has a report to finish. Celaena has other ideas. Inspired by the line from Heir of Fire in which Chaol alludes specifically to having had sex with Celaena on the desk in his office.</p>
<p>Teaser: "But with an impatient and almost feral little growl she grinds her hips into his and silences him, “I don’t care,” she whispers in his ear and he feels the self control he’s clinging to with every bit of his strength waver and crumble at her tone, at the lust in her voice, at the heat of her body against his and then she gasps, her voice breaking with desperation, “I need you,” and he knows he’s lost."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

** Distractions  **

He glances up, the glass pen he’s been using to scratch out his reports for the past hour slipping from his fingers as she slides lithely onto his lap, that wicked grin he knows and loves so well fixed firmly in place as he does so.

“Hi,” she breathes, nestling in close to him and settling herself rather possessively on top of him.

“Hello,” he returns, eyes guarded, tone caught somewhere between wariness and amusement at her interruption.

“I thought you were going to be busy in the city all day,” he says, stretching forwards and softly rubbing noses with her, an action that makes her blink in apparent surprise then settle, smile softening with warmth as she appears to decide that she likes it.

“I was,” she says, illuminating the situation not one bit but he finds that he doesn’t mind her vagueness too much, “But I missed you,” she admitted, surprising him almost as much with her words as with the faint flush of heat and colour that floods into her cheeks at this confession.

Smiling he leans forwards and presses a soft kiss to her lips and almost at once feels them part hungrily for his tongue. It’s an invitation he finds himself incapable of refusing and does what she wants almost at once, deepening the kiss, one hand curling tightly around her hip, bracing her to him, the other reaching up to tangle in her long blonde hair.

As she kisses him she shifts deftly in his lap, pressing her soft, warm form against him, allowing their bodies to fit neatly together, only the fabric of their clothes separating them and he’s never been more aware of what a slim, flimsy barrier they make between them than he is in this moment.

Breaking the kiss at last, her eyes oddly bright and full of what he can only identify as hunger, she drapes her arms lazily around his neck, letting her legs slide down on either side of him, straddling him properly.

“I want you,” she whispers, her breath hot on his ear, her voice lower than it had been a moment ago and husky, loaded with tension and barely controlled desire.

A shiver runs through him and he knows she feels it by the way the corners of her mouth twitch but he makes himself swallow hard and say, his voice only slightly strained, “I have work to do here, I-“ he doesn’t get out much more than that because she grinds against him, moving her body in a way that makes it seem as though she was made for this purpose alone, to move against him in a way that makes him feel utterly powerless before her.

He can’t stop the gasp that bursts from his lips in response to her and the hand that still rests protectively on her hip curls  more tightly around her, his nails digging briefly into her flesh and making her hiss and press herself even more firmly against him.

“I want you now,” she whispers in a voice he can only assume is designed to lead him to an early grave because it calls up another shudder that trembles through his body with a force like thunder roiling through his bones and he’s sure she knows the effect she has on him, it’s written in every line of her face and in the gleam of her eyes as they watch him.

Before he can marshal any defences or response to this that doesn’t involve them fucking in his office where the chances of them being caught are dangerously high she sinks down and begins softly kissing his neck, her lips sucking instinctively in all of the places she’s found since they began sleeping together that make him groan and tremble and surrender all control to her.

His body responds to her, arching back, tilting his head back to allow her better access and she immediately takes the involuntary invitation, her kisses becoming harder and more precise, her hips still rocking gently against his. Gritting his teeth, his eyes clamped shut as heat begins to rise through his core he manages to pant out to her, “I really- I really need to finish this report.”

She draws away, the look in her eyes so wounded that it’s only with great difficulty that he manages to avoid seizing the neat, orderly stacks of papers arranged on his desk and throwing them to floor to demonstrate his complete disregard for his reports, to show her that she’s the only thing that matters but he forces himself to show restraint, swallowing hard again and taking several deep, steadying breaths.

This clearly wasn’t the response she’d intended and she begins moving gently into him once more, leaning in close and breathing softly in his ear, “But I’ve missed you,” he closes his eyes and she softly kisses his lips again, “I’ve missed you so much. Haven’t you missed me?” he can only nod, helpless before her and though his eyes are still tight shut he can still see the smug smile that must tug across her lips at that.

Forcing his eyes open again he allows his restraint to crack for just a moment and reaches forward, kissing her hard and remains close to her, his forehead pressed against hers, their breath mingling in the bare inch of space that separates their lips, and into this he murmurs tautly, “Celaena, anyone could walk in on us here, it’s not-“

But with an impatient and almost feral little growl she grinds her hips into his and silences him, “I don’t care,” she whispers in his ear and he feels the self control he’s clinging to with every bit of his strength waver and crumble at her tone, at the lust in her voice, at the heat of her body against his and then she gasps, her voice breaking with desperation, “I need you,” and he knows he’s lost.

“Celaena,” he whispers thickly, half a curse and half a prayer and all for her.

Nodding against him she kisses him once more and as she does she takes one of his large, rough, calloused hands in her smaller one and guides it onto her thigh, feeling his sharp intake of breath as he feels the heat of her skin against his, the smooth, supple flesh more inviting than it has any right to be. With a few soft, wordless moans she encourages him to slide his hand up beneath her dress.

Trembling faintly, he does so. A heavy groan falls from his lips as he slides his hand all the way along her thigh until he’s high enough to discover that, not only is she wearing nothing but the light blue silk dress that hugs every curve and contour of her body like a second skin, but that she’s already so wet for him that she shudders at the lightest touch or flicker of pressure he dares to allow her.

Unable to stop herself any longer the words burst out, “Please,” she whimpers, clinging onto him, rocking her hips against his hand, “Please, Chaol, please.”

The sound of his name dragged from her throat does it. He snaps and the last shreds of his self control burn away to leave nothing but ash and heat in their wake. He finds her eyes and then kisses her as hard as he can, smothering the moans as he slides his fingers between her legs and begins teasing her. Almost as soon as his fingers brush against her she begins panting. Her eyes close and her breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she lets her hips rise and fall with the motion of his hand.

When the feel of her writhing in pleasure in his lap coupled with the hot, breathy moans that continue to escape her throat rouse him in turn and she feels him harden beneath her and a rough smirk is tugged across her lips at that. Leaning forwards she kisses him deeply, fingers dragging through his hair.

Slowly, torturously, she eases herself from him and his body rebels at the loss of contact, as though she’s pulled half of him away with her, leaving him feeling hollow and empty without her pressed against him. As though she knows exactly what he’s thinking she gives him a wicked little smile then turns her back to him, leaning down until she’s draped over his desk, watching his reaction to this over her shoulder.

Blood pounds through his body and for a moment he forgets how to breathe as his eyes follow the lines of her shapely legs, up and up and up stopping only when he feels her tug on his tunic, coaxing him to his feet. He stands as she unceremoniously pulls her dress up around her hips reaching out a hand to him to draw him closer.

Pushing himself from his chair he takes her hand, swallowing hard, and begins undoing the laces of his trousers with his other hand, fingers fumbling impatiently around the knots, desperate for her. Finally managing to free himself from the tight cotton he steps in behind her, pressing himself against her and leans in.

Carefully, with a deliberate control he doesn’t feel, he scrapes back her hair, pulling it across one shoulder leaving the other side bare, taking care to allow his nails to rasp over her skin, eliciting a faint shiver that he watches tremble through her body with satisfaction. Dipping down, still forcing himself to take this slowly, to savour every inch of her, every moment with her, he begins to kiss her neck from behind, inhaling the scent of her as he does so, revelling in the soft whimpers that she can’t contain.

Placing his lips against her ear so she can feel the heat of his breath when he speaks he asks quietly, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she gasps, shuddering against him, “Yes. Gods yes. Chaol plea-“her last word is drowned in a loud moan as he enters her in one swift, sure surge and her spine arches in pleasure at the feeling of him inside her again. Her hand clenches into a tight fist and slams against the desk in front of her as he begins to move, setting a slow, careful rhythm, letting her adjust to him.

The papers on his desk get crumpled beneath her hands as she claws at them, desperate for purchase, a soft, pitiful whine escaping her when he slows his pace even further in punishment, making it nothing short of torturous for her, knowing how much she needs this.

Leaning in again he kisses her neck, the motions messy and frequently interrupted by the hoarse groans of pleasure that escape from his lips at the feel of her, at the heat of her surrounding him, at the soft whines that reach him from her. He glories in every inch of her body, savouring every curve and every contour wishing that he could exist the rest of his life in this way, with her pressed against him so intimately that when he closes his eyes he could forget that they were two separate beings.

They feel like a single entity, move like a single entity, breathe and gasp and delight in this like a single entity. She only truly feels whole when she’s with him, only truly forgets the world around her and the horrors she’s suffered when he holds her in his arms and draws her in close against him. Their bodies rise and fall together and fit with one another so seamlessly it’s as though they’ve been moulded that way; always with the intention of being one.

He takes her hand in one of his and feels her cling to it as though it’s her last anchor to this world. The other he slowly eases between her legs where he begins stimulating her even further, taking as much pleasure in the feeling of her coming undone in response to him as he does in being inside her.

“Chaol,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and starved and with a low hiss he gradually increases his pace again, feeling her squeeze his hand, nails biting in to his skin and he tangles his fingers through her hair, tugging on it and making her cry out loudly before he covers her mouth with his hand, muffling the sound, to stop them being caught.

He knows from the curses that are starting to spill uncontrollably from her lips that she’s close and he himself can’t stop growling her name every time he thrusts into her, his eyes clamped shut, acutely conscious of every shudder and tremble as it ripples through her body so that when she finally reaches her climax he’s almost as aware of it as she is. A few sharp, short thrusts later he follows her, grasping at her hips to pull her in closer to him, his fingers tangling into her long hair, trying to ground himself as his climax continues to pulse through his system.

Both panting, the moment they’ve calmed down enough he gently encourages her to turn back and face him which she does, almost immediately slumping against him, burying her face into his chest, her body heaving as she tries to compose herself again. Smiling faintly, his own body still shaking, he sinks back down into the chair behind him, drawing her down with him.

 Once she’s settled on his knee he leans in and kisses her tenderly, trying to say things with that kiss that somehow he can never find the words for. He thinks she understand, from the way she looks at him and smiles at him afterwards and arches up to rub noses with him.

 After that nothing he says or does will dislodge her from his lap and he spends the rest of the evening with one hand braced on her hip to keep her steady while she chatters away and instincts that she’s ‘helping’ him as he tries to finish his reports. He finds that he can’t complain, years of being tucked away in this dark, cold office makes him appreciate the feeling of a soft, warm body against him.

 Somehow he hadn’t noticed how lonely he had become until he had her. Now any absence of hers, no matter how slight, makes him realise the extent of the gaping hole within him that she’s filled. And looking at her now, curled up on his lap, head on his shoulder, having drifted off to sleep in his arms a few minutes ago, he can’t help but think that she feels the same way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> as ever, comments are very much appreciated and encouraged. thanks for reading! (:


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